Tag: parent of 4

I laid my hand on your chest To feel it move up and down I sat in silence to hear your breath come back around

I could feel your heartbeat
as you were asleep
And you invoked a person
I didn’t know I could be

You created me The woman I am now You created me The one that won’t back down Cause one look at you And I’ve found the words to say And one smile from you And there’s not one thing I can’t take Cause you created a better me You alone, are saving me

A partnership, a bond, Built through our blood, Made out of love, and it can’t be undone

I didn’t know that I had the courage it would take
To be somebody’s everything, somebody’s great escape
But one nod from you and my insecurity fades

Cause you’re creating me The woman I am now You created me The one that won’t back down one look at you And I’ve found the words to say And one smile from you And there’s not one thing I can’t take Cause you created a better me You alone are saving me

And I’m not doing this alone I hear your voice behind every stepping stone You’re the confidence I never knew I had The mortar to the bricks as I lay down my path I can do anything holding your hand at my side Your eyes hold every single one of my reasons why

And you’re creating me The woman I am becoming You created me The one that is breaking free Cause one look at you And I’ve found the words to say And one smile from you And there’s not one thing I can’t take Cause you created a better me You alone are saving me

Recently while listening to Richard Dawkins’, “The God Delusion,” I had to pause and let some of his words wash over me—they were cleansing, if you will.

I won’t quote him directly, but here’s the jist:

**There can be indoctrinated children, and there can be children of Christian parents, but there are zero Christian children.**

Obviously, a few years ago I would have wanted to battle back and proclaim that MY children were believers and students of the Holy book. I would’ve scrambled to find the flaw in his statement—- but deep in my noggin, I would’ve been arguing, not with Dawkins, but with my own indoctrination.

As much as I would’ve wanted to believe my kids WERE Christian kids, the truth was—every belief they possessed came directly from me or the Bible stories I’d allowed them to learn. Sure they knew scripture, but how did they learn it? –Me, a curriculum I’d chosen, a class I’d taken them to… Sure they knew the prayers, but how did they know who to pray to and the format of recitation? Me! These weren’t things they would’ve ever approached on their own. They were simply babies who wanted to PLAY! But my kids were my echo chambers, they were simply regurgitating by beliefs right back out at me. It’s scary to think how deeply I had sculpted their entire world view and reality. Shits terrifying, man. Wheeeew. Breathe. Even scarier is the way some folks never realize what they are doing….

Fortunately for me now, as a deconstructed exvangelical, when I read Dawkins’ words, I was in complete and total agreement. It was actually freeing to hear someone else saying what I knew from my own childhood and in raising my kids.

Every single attempt at raising Godly kids is a form of indoctrination. From reciting scripture, creeds, and prayers at young ages, to attending weekly services, to routines of the home. Every time a parent intentionally places their belief system into the mind of their child, they are indoctrinating that child. Every time a child declares they are saved or that they’ve had a God experience, it is simply a replication of what they’ve witnessed from adults around them or is a fictitious response to hormones released in emotional situations. Again, a fabrication of that child’s reality set up by someone else.

Children are born religion free. Again, when a baby is born, their brain has zero knowledge of any religion. Yet, they are divine. They come to us with an awe-struck curiosity for the mystical experiences of nature. They are bright eyed and eager to explore, they worship in the form of wonder. Wouldn’t it be grand to approach guiding them, with that same joy of learning that they implore. When THEY ask about God, faith, sins, the devil, as parents we show excitement and present them with timelines of all the major world religions, allowing them to see for themselves the bigger picture. There is NO indoctrination in that method. And, there is no right answer, therefore no pressure to conform out of fear.

I remember the fear that being a Christian places within parents. The “their blood is on your hands,” approach to training up children. Hell, I pulled my kids from school so I COULD INDOCTRINATE them to think like me.

I remember feeling afraid when they “sinned.” I remember crying out to God that he would guard their hearts. I spent literal nights awake trying to envision a way to best teach them so they’d know God’s Love….

But now I see, if you look at your child as a fallen being to be saved, you’ve lost the chance at letting the magic of life teach them. Their own Life is their best teacher. You are cutting them off from their own flow when you’ve set the default state of being as a religious one. They have very little chance at growing beyond that default setting, and for many Christians that is their hope.

How sad. But that’s what you get when generation after generation sits in the church pew and never does the work of thinking. You get uneducated worldviews, partnered with indoctrinated beliefs, sculpted into little robotic beings, passing off their ideals as the ONLY right way, all the way into their adulthood, and this then repeats itself with their children. And it’s ALL misinformation, but they live from default because it’s safe and requires no conscious effort to learn new ways and new information. It’s frankly, an irresponsible way to live.

For me and for my children, I did the work of reprogramming my default settings. They will not have to deconstruct, they will not have to “go astray” or “leave the fold.” Together, we are free to let Wonder, Curiosity, and Life be our teachers. Please join me in ending the brain-washing of our youth-they deserve better. They deserve to be the joyful explorers that they were literally born being. Let us, as adults, give our children the space they need to be here, free from your default settings.

Sometimes, it just hits me outta nowhere that our family of four GREW! It’s not four anymore, there are six of us now. And it’s at seemingly normal moments that this epiphany occurs.

Tonight, it was dinnertime. Year after year, as I prepped dinner plates, it was simply four plates.

11 years of prepping dinner for 4

But then tonight, as I made our “big people” plates, it dawned on me with intensity, “Oh my word! There are two more little plates to make, two more little mouths to fill, two more personalities at the table.” My heart was all bursty-like as I prepped their classiest of Paw Patrol plastics😂

The littles are always adding a pop of color to every situation The OGsThey taught me the most about love

Our First Batch💖💖

Because we were young parents, poor and working through college, we decided it’d be fun to start over in adding some littles during this more secure place in our lives. We wanted to know what it felt like to say, “Tonight, we make a baby!” Previously, our kiddos were wanted surprises!

Addition #1, 10.3 lbs of pure 💜

My 3 daughters💜💜💜We thought we were done…

But one extra ovulation day and a date night later, we were given our sweet son.The bigs and littles first professional picture together…

I carried them, but they created me… (sorry bout the tag squares!) Christmas with my whole crew🎄🎅🏼🤶🏻🎄(again-tag squares drive me mad!”The Second Batch💜💙 fresh outta the tub, so glad we started over…

And now, the thing that led me to my nostalgic momma moment in the first place:

My life is a WILD ride right now. I’m talking late night drinks, my tits out all the time, there is some crack involved, there is me- hungover in the bathroom, me- bent over in the shower, and there are even asses in my face, multiple asses… WILD. You get the jist………….

Or do you?

Picture this, it’s 11 pm, darkness has descended and the house is quiet. You sit back, allowing your eyes to close and a smile appears. “It is finished,” echos through your delirious mind. Then: Like thunder erupting from the throat of an angry God, the Three Year Old bellows, “Mooooom! WAAATTTEEERRR!!! I NEEEED Waatteerr.”

I leap from the recliner, milk dripping from my exposed breasts, Baby Brother unhappy to be bothered with unlatching. My back CRACKS, as I jump up. OhmaLort——This is it, my time hung over the tub in the bathroom is really wearing on me.

Bath administration is getting evermore tedious as my tots rebel regularly and I’m forced to lean and stretch my body in ways that even the greatest yogis would be impressed by. I’ve been a bath time contortionist through four children now, and bending over in the shower to wash them is not only dangerous, it gets painful night after night.

And, did I mention the amount of asses I tend to that are not my own? There is a multitude of ass-wiping and ass-checking that is involved on the daily. Between the two littles, I don’t know that an hour passes where I’m not greeted by that of an ass.

Soooooooo, my WILD nights aren’t exactly the kind of wild I had originally alluded to, but it is wild here, nonetheless. And I freaking LOVE IT, sometimes.

Here’s a small rundown of a day in my life that doesn’t include any of the 4ness that’s happening throughout the day, like me being lost in the depths of my own mind 90% of the time, here’s a go at my day:

I homeschool The Wonderer full time now, She’s a 5th grader. Soul Sarcasm is a freshman and is at school from 7-7:30am and I load the babies up and stay there to bring her home for LA/World Hist and then she goes back to the school at 9, I pick her up at 12:35. During that 9-12:30 slot, I’m schooling the Wonderer and I try to do calendar with the babies, Riot (3) and Stout (14 months) . At 12:20, we do lunch for the littles and hustle to get Soul Sarcasm. Stout falls asleep in the car, we get home at 12:45. We eat “big girl” lunch together then they start their online classes at 1:00. At 2:00, we try to sit down and read poetry/listen to a classical piece, look at a piece of art, study logic/argument/philosophy/Quaker queries/ ancient wisdom from abroad/ or a scientist and read one family read-aloud, right now it’s Big Magic. At 3:20, I have to get Soul Sarcasm back to the school for softball. From 3:40-4:40 I play with the Littles and prep dinner and clean up our school messes. Then I pick S. S. up at 5. Throw in the Wonderer’s extracurriculars that occur at 12:40 twice a week at her school, plus piano and guitar at 6:00 pm and Friends, after dinner, after clean up, after chores, after all the WILD moments added to the mix, I’m freaking spent.

Never doubt that I am not wallowing in a magnitude of gratefulness for this WILD life I live. But hear me clear, choosing to multi-school, choosing to be a full-time care-giver, choosing to spend EVERY DAY, EVERY HOUR with my children is not an instant gratification way of being. There is hardly ever an accolade, or even a praise, but there is always a multitude of, “I love you,” “Will you read to me?” “Can we play this?” “Can you help me with that?” “Momma, I unloaded the dishwasher.” “Momma, I folded the clothes.” “Momma, will you rub my back?” “Momma, that artist was amazing!” “Momma, read that line again.” “Momma, thank you!” And these young voices come to meeeeeee, when it could be someone else, and that is all the glory I need. I won’t end this post right there, because I don’t want you to think I’m lost in the cloud of frufru. Cause the truth is, while there is beauty in this way of life everyday, there is also shit every day, literal shit and metaphorical shit.

And, there is also me, hung over (the tub)—- and crack on every corner (ass-crack that is) —— and let us not forget the lactating titties out for all to see when the neighbor drops by.

…..there you have a day in my life….

WILD!

Don’t wake the Babies

Calendar Time with RiotThe Wonderer working on GrammarSouthern Cabbage for lunchSoul Sarcasm actually Smiles

A witch stirring her cauldron

Stout wrestles this giant snake with ease

There was an old lady…

Hunting for treasure from fairies and gnomes in our neighborhood

The shirt says “Mommin and Killin it x4” my Sister sent it to me when we were surprised with BABY 4Breastfed Baby thinking he owns my boobies.